Ours wasn't a typical lesbian love story,

Ours wasn't a typical lesbian love story, but few love stories are typical when they start the way ours did: in a burning building, surrounded by velociraptors and

zombie nuns. I'd got the survivors into the helicopter when I saw the pilot. Guadelupe was stenciled on her flight suit. She flashed me a smile, & our lesbian love story began.

Lupe, as I'd come to call her, was a terrible lover but a topnotch chopper pilot. After the fall of civilization we escaped with five other lesbians to Acapulco and started

our very own Subaru Rally Club. It was fun at first until it was time for picture day. Apparently, everyone decided to wear the same flannel shirt (yes, what are the chances?) & th

at's why the Subaru Rally Club made flannel shirts the official team uniform. Things got worse when we ran into the women's lumberjack club who also made flannel shirts their team

flag. Those lumberjanes had hairy legs than my dog, and had about as great of smelling breath. I guess it explains why all the Subarus and Volvos has multiple air freshners hang

off the rear view. And talkin of rear view, lumberjanes should get them wide load signs an flags tagged on they's fanny. Then one swung round slow an points me with her warty hand

as if to say, "Do you want a piece of THIS?" I didn't,but neither did I want to insult this lumberjane for obvious reasons. Still, for such a hefty gal, she maneuvered her wideload

onto a really tiny chair. The lumberjane pounded her chest. "I said, DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS!?!" The tiny chair trembled from her weight. A little dog sniffed the floor right u